


Say Something

by jadesolo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, F/M, SO, Spoilers!, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, post 3x08, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadesolo/pseuds/jadesolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons and Fitz attempt to deal with what happened between them, but end up finding themselves alone and in the middle of an argument....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is set after the events of 3x08, so there is spoilers throughout. Also the title comes from the song "Say Something (I'm Giving Up on You)" which is good for when you want to have a good cry about Fitzsimmons. Hope you all enjoy! Feel free to comment!

_Screaming. Fitz looked up, freezing in his tracks. His heart plummeted to his stomach, and suddenly he was moving, turning around, running to the door, heart pounding, his hands shaking in a way they hadn't in a while. He burst through the closed door, and nearly fell inside. He glanced around frantically, looking for a sign of her small figure, even a glimpse of her short brown hair. But there was none._

_The room was empty, save for himself. His eyes trailed over to the monolith, and his heart stopped. The door to the containment box was open. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. It had taken her. Then suddenly, he was screaming. Anger and fear and agony echoed from his lips, and then he heard footsteps running, but he couldn't bring himself to look to see who was coming--_

Fitz sat straight up, sweat pouring from his brow. He began to take in deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Trying to remind himself that it was okay, Jemma was back and she was safe. The monolith was gone, destroyed. It could never harm her again. Then more recent memories rose unbidden in his mind. Jemma telling her the story of what had happened on that planet--telling him about Will--and what had happened in the lab....

He screwed his eyes shut, trying and failing to cast away the memory of her lips against his. He pulled the duvet off of him and marched to his bathroom, and turned on the sink facet. He splashed some water on his face and quickly dried it, trying to ignore the memory of her stroking his chin.... "Dammit," he muttered, tossing aside the towel. He had once thought that his feelings for Jemma couldn't get any stronger, couldn't hurt any worse. Every day with her proved that he was wrong. Then of course he had kissed her. Pushed her up against the lab desk--what the hell had he been thinking? He'd imagined his first kiss with Jemma more times than he'd care to admit, but each time he had full control of his emotions, there was never a scenario in which they would start kissing turning an argument. And every day since had been worse. He could barely look her in the eye.

She clearly didn't hate him for kissing her abruptly like he did-that was a relief, even if he still regretted that they had kissed in the first place-but she seemed to be more quiet than usual. Almost as if she had given up hope on them. _Good_ , he thought bitterly. _Then she can be happy._

Because how could Jemma Simmons ever be happy with Leopold Fitz? There was no way that she would choose Fitz-the man who had fainted upon entering the lab when Jemma had been dissecting a cat-over her perfect astronaut boyfriend. _Who was sent by Hydra_ , he couldn't help but think. At least he beat Will in that aspect. Will, perfect bloody golden boy. Fitz slammed his fist down on the sink's marble, and winced slightly at the sting that went through his hand. He needed to do something. Something productive, something cathartic. Something that could stop him from going around snogging Jemma at random times.

A quick thought crossing his mind, he glanced over at his alarm clock. Right on time. Carefully, he made his way out of his room and walked down the eerily quiet halls of the Playground. He paused hesitantly at Jemma's door, wondering if she was up, haunted by the kiss that should never have happened. He shook his head. Thinking about what Jemma felt, or lack thereof, made everything worse. He moved along, heading to the gym, praying that despite recent occurrences, she would be there.

* * *

 

 

_The only noise in the room was the heart monitor's faint beeping. At the current moment, Simmons was the only one there. The rest of the team had visited multiple times, informing her of the current status of Ward, assuring her that he was in custody. Most of them stayed with her when they could, but of course they could never stay as long as they would've liked. They were busy rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D, after all. But S.H.I.E.L.D. was the last thing on Jemma's mind._

_The only thing she cared about was the person lying in the hospital bed, his breathing slow, eyes fluttering every now and then. She had given up hope that it meant he was waking up. It'd been eight days already. She didn't need to be a bloody medical doctor to know that his chances were fading with every passing day. A tear working its' way down her cheek, Jemma reached out and grasped Fitz's limp hand. It was the closest to comfort she had now, what little it gave her._

_More tears fell down her cheeks, until she was sobbing silently, shoulders shaking, and the pain of the memory of his embrace in times like this made everything worse._

Jemma's eyes flew open, and she bolted upright, tears streaming down her cheeks. It took her a few minutes to calm down, and even longer to convince herself that he was okay. That Fitz was okay, he was safe and awake, and no longer in a coma that the man they had once called a friend had been the cause of. Then she remembered his voice as he had pulled away from her after they had kissed, remembered how much finality was in those two words.

She threw the blankets off of her and began to pace around her room. She couldn't help but recall how soft his lips were, or the feeling of his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to her. Or even him pushing her against the lab desk and kissing her hard and desperately, all madness and fire. "Oh god," she whispered, sitting back on the bed, holding her head in her hands.

Will, Fitz, Will, Fitz. She felt a great deal for both of them-she even loved Will. But that was just it. She _loved_ Will. Despite what her answer had been when Fitz had asked her that impossible question before they had kissed, Jemma hadn't been sure. She had stumbled over the words- _I don't know, maybe, yes_ -as unsure as she had been whenever she asked herself that same question. But she hasn't hesitated, didn't even have to think, when she had interrupted Fitz, yelling at him to understand how much he meant to her, all in a simple sentence, followed by a kiss that had taken her breath away, a kiss that she found herself thinking about in every free moment.

She grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it as hard as she could, with a small shout, just loud enough to voice her feelings, but quiet enough that it wouldn't wake anyone. The pillow hit the wall and bounced harmlessly back to the ground, narrowly avoiding the vase of daisies in the corner.

_The bloody cosmos want to keep us apart._

No.

_You're more than that, Jemma._

Jemma let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. After a few minutes, the sobs slowed to a stop. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, Jemma glanced over at the clock, and sighed with relief. It should be okay now, it would be empty. Slowly, she stood up from the bed and grabbed her hoodie and stepped outside. She started to walk down the hall, but stopped in her tracks, hesitating. Should she? Without thinking, Jemma turned around and headed to his door.

She started to reach out to knock on it, but then froze. What could would waking him up this early in the morning do? What could she possibly say to him? Especially after what had happened.... She shook her head. This was ridiculous; there was no way she could face him right now. At this rate, she would either yell and scream at him for giving up on them, or snog the living daylights out of him. And she was fairly certain neither would help their current situation. Taking a deep breath, she turned away and continued down the hall, trying to ignore the swirling mess that was her feelings.

* * *

 

 

Fitz stepped into the gym, finding her exactly where Daisy had told him she normally was this early in the morning. Sitting Indian style, her eyes closed, breathing slow, was Melinda May. After a moment of wondering how the woman could be so calm after what had happened to Doctor Garner, Fitz cleared his throat. May said nothing in reply, just opened one eye expectantly at him.

"I just-" Fitz began, unable to voice what he needed to say.

"Sit down," May said quietly. Fitz immediately did what he was told, and sat down beside her, facing the opposite wall. After a moment, May exhaled. "Close your eyes." Feeling ever so slightly like an idiot, Fitz closed his eyes and waited further instruction. May took a deep breath and let it out. "Take a deep breath."

He did.

"Take everything you're feeling, all those emotions, all those unspoken words, and let them go with the exhale." Taking a deep breath, he thought of everything. Thought of losing Jemma, of finding out about her and Will, promising to get Will back, how it felt to have stood no more than a few inches beside her but felt a million miles away. He thought of how much it hurt when he realized she didn't understand how much this was hurting him, Jemma Simmons not understanding him was something he could not fathom. How he had nearly believed that she believed in him when she had yelled that simple sentence at him, but was packed with so much meaning.

_And you dove through a hole in the universe for me!_

He exhaled. Another deep breath. He recalled how it felt to grab her and kiss her, pressing his lips madly against hers, desperate and needy. How it felt, pushing her up against the desk, pulling her up toward him so she could reach him better when she had responded to the kiss. How it felt when she had pressed her lips on his and had kissed him gently and slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

He let out a shuddering exhale, and realized a second later with some shock that he actually felt a bit better.

"How do you do it?" The question had escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

"Do what?"

"Not care?" She remained silent for a very long moment, and Fitz began to wonder if he was about to be murdered.

Then, May spoke. "I do care. There's not a single human being on this planet that doesn't care for something. And when that person causes you pain you just...you control the pain. You keep your chin up and you soldier on."

Fitz nodded, then said, "I never imagined you soldiering on."

May turned to him, and he was surprised to see the amount of pain in her eyes. "It's all I can do."

* * *

 

 

Jemma stopped dead in her tracks when she breached the doorway of the gym. May was up, alright. But so was the last (and only) person she wanted to see.

"Fitz." The word flew out of her mouth in surprise before she could stop herself. It came out in a small, hoarse whisper. He was sitting Indian style beside May, his eyes closed. A flash of a memory passed through her mind; Fitz's hands on her waist, pulling her close, deepening the kiss-

She squeezed her eyes shut, surprised by how painful the memory was. Perhaps it wouldn't of been, had it not been tainted by the fact that Fitz had given up on them.

_We're cursed._

"No," she whispered faintly to herself, taking a step back, but catching her foot on a piece of exercise equipment, knocking it aside. The noise was loud enough to catch May and Fitz's attention. His eyes met her for a moment, and she was startled by the expression of pain that flashed across his face. But it instantly disappeared, an emotionless mask appearing in it's wake.

May's gaze jumped between Fitz and Simmons for a moment or two, and she stood up a few seconds later, saying something quick to Fitz. Then she headed toward Jemma. As she began to walk past, May gave Simmons a warm smile. Then she was gone. Jemma stared frantically after the older agent, glancing back over at Fitz, who had gone back to his meditation. She could either leave and avoid the awkwardness, or cause an even bigger rift between them by making it seem like she was avoiding him.

Sighing heavily, Jemma marched toward the punching bag, shrugging off her hoodie and fighting the right stance. She tried to ignore Fitz's presence as she pulled her arm back and threw the first punch.

_Thump!_

How stupid was she? How could she let him walk away thinking they were cursed?

_Thump!_

Why hadn't he told her how he had truly felt about everything?

_Thump!_

Why couldn't she just tell him how she felt?

_Thump, thump!_

Why had she roped him into this insanity anyway?

_Thump!_

Why the hell had she even dragged him out onto the field? If she hadn't of done that then he wouldn't have gotten brain damage.

_Thump!_

If she hadn't of done that, he wouldn't have fallen for her.

_Thump!_

If she hadn't done that, she wouldn't currently be at fault for breaking his heart.

Tears began to blur her vision as she pulled her arm back. She couldn't cry now, not with Fitz in the room with her. Because then he would be Fitz, and he would come to comfort her, even when he shouldn't. Because that's who he was. Her pillar of strength when she had none left. And sometimes it killed her that she couldn't be that for him.

* * *

 

He tried to ignore her at first. Tried focusing on breathing in and out, like May had taught him. Tried channeling all the pain into those breaths, but just having Jemma in the same room as him commanded all of his attention. Each punch she threw made him wince; the smell of her perfume made his heart swell, remembering easier days back at the Academy, when he would walk into her dorm with a pile of books in his arm, his tools and half-finished projects in his backpack. When she would instantly take the books away from him, and when they would work all night together, finishing each other's sentences, drinking tea, and taking few minute breaks to exercise and talk about something else. 

  
He let out a shuddering breath, trying to block out the memories of Jemma. Of that bloody selfie. Of different selfies, taken on their first field mission. Kisses on cheeks, last breaths, hands to hold, a kiss that shouldn't of happened--

  
"No," he whispered firmly to himself, opening his eyes. Instantly, they trailed over toward Jemma, who was working up a sweat by beating up the punching bag. The ferocity in which she was hitting it almost startled him. It was a side of Jemma he normally didn't see. Jemma was the patient one, the one who kept her emotions in check. He was the one with the temper, the one who had no control of his emotions. He was the one to attack inanimate objects. Not Jemma. Never Jemma.

Concern flowing through him like a poison, Fitz stood up. Never in his life had he been so unsure of how to deal with Jemma. Not even when they weren't talking after the accident. Taking a deep breath, he began to pay attention to the way Jemma was punching the bag. Instantly Bobbi's voice flooded through his mind.

  
_You can't just throw your fist out and expect it to knock your opponent out, Fitz. You have to add as much weight as you can to the punch. Put as much body weight as you can when you throw the punch. It's not like in the movies._   


  
"You, um, you're not doing that right." He silently swore at himself. Of all the ways to phrase that and he picked that particular version? He groaned. "I mean...that's not to going to do much good in the field."

  
"And how would you know?" Jemma retorted sharply. Her words felt like a blow to the stomach, but he took a deep breath, channeling the pain out so he wouldn't say something rude back to her. 

 

"Bobbi, uh, taught me. So I wouldn't get killed while I was....on the field."

   
The unspoken words lingered in the air:  _while I was trying to get you back._  


  
"Oh," was all she said in return. There was a long moment of silence and Fitz wondered if he had somehow said something wrong, or implied something in the wrong way. Mentally backtracking through their conversation, his state of panic was interrupted by Jemma saying something so quietly that he couldn't understand her. 

 

"What?" 

Her back still turned away from him, she replied in a very small voice. "Then how do you punch?"

Taking this as an offer to approach her, Fitz took a step closer. He pointed at her arm. "May I?"

She nodded, eyes not quite meeting his. He cleared his throat and put his hand to her arm. "Okay, so get...get ready to punch, alright? You pull back this arm with as much force as you can. It's just--"

"Simple psychics," Jemma finished for him. Neither said a word for a moment when the realization of what just happened hit them. Jemma was the one to break it. "Now what?"

"You put as much body weight as you can into the punch when you throw it," Fitz replied, brain slightly fuzzy from being so close to Jemma and from something as trivial as touching her arm.

"I can't when you're um...." she trailed off and Fitz instantly understood. 

"Right, sorry," he dropped his hand away from her arm. She nodded and pulled her arm back, she hesitated a moment and he knew she was working through calculations. "It's all instinct," he said suddenly. "You can try to quantify it but it doesn't work that way. It's all, um....improvisation."

She didn't reply, instead she threw the punch. It was a lot stronger than the previous ones she had done, and it made the bag sway backwards with a lot more force. Jemma let out a small gasp of surprise, turning around to face Fitz. "I just did that."

 

 "I know," Fitz said with a small chuckle. "That was my reaction too."

  
Suddenly it became all too apparent how close they were standing next to each other, and the memory of the last time they were this close flashed across his mind. He attempted to block it out, but it seemed even more real at the moment. His heart began racing inexplicably in his chest, and the memory of that bloody kiss continued to haunt him, so badly that it felt as if he were kissing her now.

  
"Guess you can't put science to everything," she said quietly. 

  
"Well, there _is_  a science to punching. But we just can't stand there working out the calculations."

  
"We can't work out calculations for a lot of things," Jemma retorted. "Sometimes you just have to jump."

  
"And sometimes you have to take a step back," he said after a moment of hesitation. His brain was still not working properly, but even in his befuddled state he knew that they were no longer talking about the psychics of punching. 

  
"Why would you want to do that?"

  
He hesitated a moment, trying to come up with a way to answer her that would neither be the truth nor a lie. "Because sometimes you have to," he said finally.   
"And if you didn't have to?"

 

  "Then it would be logical to jump," he responded. "But sometimes variables occur that make a certain outcome impossible." It felt like a punch to the stomach to voice that thought, the one that had been haunting him for weeks. But he had no other choice. It was best to remove himself from the variable, so that Jemma wouldn't have to choose, something that would break her heart.

  
"But what if the variable....what if there were two variables? And one was....and one was-" Jemma trailed off. "Fitz, I...." 

 

His eyes trailed down to her lips, and suddenly there was a magnetic pull between the two of them, bringing each other closer....

* * *

 

It was happening again. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. Instantly, her eyes began to close just as their lips had begun to touch--

 

And suddenly Fitz was gone. Jemma opened her eyes to find that Fitz had taken several steps away from her, and was taking in deep, ragged breaths. She recognized it as the technique he was doing when he was meditating on the floor when she came in. "We can't--I can't--Jemma--"

 

"Breathe, Fitz." Jemma said quietly, taking a step forward, but as soon as she did, he took another step back.

 

"No, don't. Being close together isn't a good idea," he retorted sharply. "I shouldn't of-"

 

"Shouldn't have done what?"

 

"I shouldn't have kissed you!" Fitz exclaimed. "I shouldn't have--you're with him! And yet I--"

 

"I kissed you back!" Jemma shouted, taking a step forward. "Have you really forgotten that?"

 

"Of course I haven't forgotten!" Fitz retorted, taking a step toward her as well in his frustration. "Do you think I could honestly forget? And what's worse--I want it to happen again. I want to be with you, even though I can't. Hell, even though I shouldn't!" 

 

"Why shouldn't we be together?"

 

"Do I need to run down the list?" Fitz retorted, walking away from her. He stopped, staying quiet a moment. "Every time we try, something happens."

 

"I know that, Fitz, but--"

 

"No, you don't!" Fitz said, turning back to her, eyes sparkling. "Every time we try, you end up hurt! You could've died on that planet, Jemma. I thought you were--" he hesitated, then took a step toward her. "I came up with every explanation I could. That you had somehow been shrunk, that it had put you in stasis somehow. When I watched the security footage......" He trailed off. "Then I found that stupid scroll!" He threw his hand into the air.

 

"What scroll?"

 

"A scroll that had one bloody word on it. Maveth."

 

Jemma scrunched up her nose. "But, that's Hebrew for--"

 

"For death," Fitz finished. "Yes. I thought you were.....then I--"

 

"Fitz...then you what?" Fear paralyzed her for a sickening moment, and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind of what Fitz's grief had caused him to do, all possibilities worse than the last. 

 

"I tried to get it to take me!" Fitz exclaimed, taking another step toward her. "And it wouldn't! I begged it to, but it didn't do a damn thing! Wouldn't budge."

 

Jemma shook her head, tears blurring her vision of Fitz. "But you thought that it--that I was--that it--"

 

Then the realization hit her. "No, Fitz. Oh god." She held her face in her hands. He was still talking as though he couldn't stop, but the words were muffled to her. Finally she looked up at him. "You idiot."

 

* * *

"What?"

"You bloody idiot," Jemma said, her mouth nothing but a small line. Her eyes were wild with anger. "Don't you ever,  _ever_ do something as damn stupid as trying to get an alien monolith try and kill you! What the hell were you even thinking?"

 

"It was my only chance to see you again!"

 

"Don't you  _dare_ tell me that, Leo Fitz! Don't you ever try to get yourself killed, not in my name! Don't you ever insult my memory like that! Don't you ever waste your life for me."

 

Fitz backed away, suddenly slightly afraid of the woman that was a few inches shorter than him. "Jemma-"

 

"Don't. Don't you try and die for something as idiotic as that!"

 

"If I hadn't of done that, I wouldn't have saved you!"

 

"Then you shouldn't have saved me!"

 

For a moment, he was too stunned to speak. "J-Jemma--"

 

"Don't you dare risk your life for me, Leo. Bobbi told me about all the stupid stunts you pulled, and for what? To bring me back? What good would having me back do if you were dead?"

 

"You would be home!" Fitz retorted angrily.

 

"No, I wouldn't!" Jemma snapped. "I wouldn't ever  _be_ home without _you_!" 

 

It took a second for the full impact of her words to hit him; another second for his heart to start beating again. "Jemma-"

 

"Don't 'Jemma' me, Fitz!" Jemma continued on, taking a dangerous step toward him. "Stop with all this cursed non-sense, and admit it!"

 

"Admit what?"

 

"You're afraid!" 

 

It felt like a slap to the face. "Well I wasn't all that afraid, jumping into a portal to save your life, now was I?" The instant the words left his mouth, he regretted them. "I didn't-I'm an idiot. I'm just-I'm trying to keep you safe."

 

"Fitz," Jemma retorted, a pained expression on her face that almost made his knees buckle because  _he_ was the cause of it. "We are not cursed. We have never been cursed. You're afraid. Afraid of getting hurt."

 

"No," Fitz said softly. "I've been hurt for a very long time. What I am afraid of...is hurting you."

 

Jemma took a step toward him and placed her palm on his cheek, like she had when she had kissed him. "You're not going to hurt me. You know why?"

 

It took a moment for him to be able to look her in the eye. "Why?"

 

"Because...." she hesitated a moment, her eyes sparkling. "Because love is a promise."

 

"Jemma, I-"

 

"Fitz-Leo....I love  _you._ " 

 

"But Will--"

 

"I love you more than that." Jemma responded, leaning in closer. It was like he was being pulled in by her gravity, but he couldn't stop himself, despite the little voice in his head telling him there was no way she could ever choose  _him,_ Leopold Fitz, over strong, smart hero-man Will Daniels, but he quenched it. _  
_  


 

After a moment that felt like hours, her lips brushed against his. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. It was like every moment he had ever imagined and more. Her hand was still at his cheek, like it had been during their second kiss. The kiss that had been forbidden.

 

But this one wasn't. They were on the same page for the first time in years, understanding each other completely in a way they hadn't ever before. They kissed as though it was a beginning, as if there were a thousand more kisses in their future. Months of anger and pain and heartbreak and separation clung to them like a blanket, but they were oblivious to it and the rest of the world.

 

The kiss rose to a crescendo, slowly but fast all together. Finally, they broke away to take a breath. This time he didn't hesitate. This time, he found the words.

 

"I love you, Jemma."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Major kudos to my friend Nikki (aka cosmiclaras on tumblr) for beta-ing this fic and just generally flailing about Fitzsimmons with me. Also the line "love is a promise" is from an episode of Doctor Who and is just a really painful quote when you put it with Fitzsimmons. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did writing it!


End file.
